


Short Yogs Stories

by Ceylar



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Fights, Gen, One Shot, Short One Shot, Tumblr: Writing-prompt-s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 15:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceylar/pseuds/Ceylar
Summary: Every so often, I like to look at writing prompts and try and write something for them, and occasionally they're alright. This will just be a small collection of anything Yogs-based that I write from one of those writing prompts. The prompt I used for each little piece of writing will be used as the chapter title, so you know what my prompt was when I started.The tags will be kept very generic, and things probably won't get too bad in these, but if there are any warnings, I'll put them in the chapter summary.





	1. “Don’t hate me for this. You would have done the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a small thought I had of if Zoey had died during Blackrock, Rythian spared Duncan, and then Kim died during the war with Hat Films at the end of Flux Buds 1. What if Duncan went down the same path as Rythian, and Rythian tried to stop him from doing the wrong thing?

Rythian could only stare as Duncan pulled his green tinted goggles over his eyes, sparks flying around the room as he welded the two pieces of metal together. Rythian had been chained to the far wall and a makeshift gag had been shoved into his mouth after Duncan had grown tired of his shouting and arguing. And now all he could do was stare as the scientist worked. His tools and weapons had been stripped from him after he’d been knocked out in the fight, and now he felt horribly vulnerable without any way of defending himself. He didn’t know where they were either; his eyes had flicked around the room numerous times, and even with all the clutter on the workbenches and the floor, there was no sign of his things. 

Duncan muttered quietly to himself as he worked, having almost completely forgotten about the mage chained up in the corner. With nothing else to do, Rythian was glaring at Duncan, his eyes burning with hatred. Eventually Duncan glanced up, and almost physically recoiled from the intense glare that Rythian was sending his way. Sighing, he pushed his goggles up on his forehead and leant on the workbench, pushing a pile of tools to the side slightly. 

“Don’t hate me for this. You would have done the same.” Rythian’s glare seemed to grow more intense as Duncan spoke. “You can hate me for other things I’ve done, but not this.” He chuckled humourlessly. Rythian narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. 

Duncan sighed again and walked over to Rythian, pulling his gag down so the mage could respond. 

“I wouldn’t have done this! _I didn’t do this!_ ” He hissed as soon as he could, twisting his head away from Duncan’s touch. Duncan took a step back, crossing his arms and leaning against another workbench. 

“Yes you would have. The only difference is the way we would have done it.” He shrugged. “I’m using science where you would have used magic. But the result would be the same.”

“I. Wouldn’t. Do. This!” Rythian responded, his eyes blazing furiously. 

Duncan sighed again and returned to where he’d been working, leaving the gag off Rythian. He picked up a tool and set to work again. After a few minutes of silence, he put his tools down and hefted up a huge metal gun, the fluorescent lights glimmering off the shining metal. Rythian turned his glare to the gun, almost like he hoped he could destroy it with just a look. 

“You know they need to die.” Duncan said simply, looking over at Rythian once more. “Out of everyone, I thought you’d understand the need for revenge the most.” He gave him a wry smile, hinting at their shared history. 

“And then I learnt! Zo- _she_ taught me how to be better!” Rythian countered, his glare lessening slightly as he remembered Zoey. 

“Well, whatever. You can’t hate me for this.” Duncan moved over to a chest and pulled out a jetpack, strapping it onto his back, before he turned back to Rythian. “Have fun here while I’m gone.” He said with a smile that was too calm, considering what he was about to go and do. Rythian knew it was the calm before the storm. 

“Don’t-“ 

Before Rythian could finish his sentence, Duncan rose up into the air and out a hatch that he opened with a remote control, a cloud of smoke filling the room and making Rythian cough. When the smoke cleared, Duncan had gone, the gun with him, and the room was horribly quiet and still. And although Rythian knew that the founders of Hat Corp deserved something for Kim’s death, it wasn’t this. After all, he’d spares Duncan after Zoey’s death. But now he was beginning to wonder if that had been a mistake. 


	2. “You don’t own me, I don’t belong to you.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> References to drug usage in this one, and the relationship is a little abusive, but that's it for warnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend and I have always thought it'd be interesting if Lal and Five didn't get on in the first place (of course they'd eventually figure each other out and get on like a house on fire), and we figured that Five would be a very headstrong kind of person who doesn't take care of herself, and Lal is always left to clean up her messes and look after her when she nearly kills herself. So this is just a little snapshot of what their relationship at the beginning might look like.

“Sit down and listen for five fucking minutes!” 

Lal slammed his hand on the table, causing everything on it to clatter and jump about. A glass beaker that had been a little too close to the edge toppled over onto the floor and smashed, shards of glass scattering over the floor. Standing with her arms crossed, Five glared defiantly at Lal. 

“Or what, _Boss_? You gonna force me to sit down? ‘Cause last time I checked, I could file that under sexual harassment.”

“That’s rich, coming from the girl who’s fucked nearly everyone in this god-damned city!” Lal growled back. 

His comment made Five’s blood boil and she stalked over to him, fist raising to punch him. Lal blocked her punch, gripping onto her wrist tightly, and grabbing her other wrist as she tried to punch him again. 

“Let go of me!” She hissed, fighting against his grip.

“Or what, _Echo_?” Lal sneered in response, saying her chosen name in the same way she’d called him Boss. He towered over her as he held her tightly in his grip. 

“I’ll fucking end you!” Lal laughed, a short dry laugh. 

“I’d like to see you try!” 

Five twisted in Lal’s grip and went to bite his arm while aiming to stamp down on his foot at the same time. Predicting her moves, he shoved her backwards. She stumbled as her back crashed into the table, knocking even more things to the floor with a crash. He kept a tight grip on her wrists and pushed her arms down onto the table, leaning over her so she was trapped in place with little wriggle room. But it didn’t stop her from struggling against him. 

“Now stay there and fucking _listen_!” Lal growled at her. Five glared defiantly at him, still attempting to break free from his grip. 

“You don’t own me, I don’t belong to you!” 

“And I never said you did!” He snarled. “But I want you to make a decision. Either you get the fuck out and don’t come back, or you cut the crap and start looking after yourself.” Five opened her mouth to reply, but Lal barrelled on before she got the chance to say a single word. “I am not your personal doctor. I will not keep fixing you every time you waltz in here throwing up your guts because you were stupid enough to share needles, or because you thought it would be ‘fun’ to fuck a million different guys and get a shit tonne of STDs!” 

“I can look after myself-“

“No you fucking well can’t! I’m the one looking after you, and if you want to go ahead and kill yourself, then go ahead and do that! But don’t come crawling to my door when you regret your decisions!” Lal straightened up, releasing Five and turned his back on her. “Now get the fuck out.”

“With pleasure.” She sneered before turning and stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

One final glass dropped to the ground and smashed, adding to the mess already on the floor. Lal glared at the pile of shattered glass. Once again he was left with her shit to clean up. Just like always. 


End file.
